The Adventures of Captain Awesome von Baconpants

Posts Tagged: ‘Archived Fic’

~*~*~*~
Title: The Dancefloor
Author/pseudonym: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Email address: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: J/B
Status: NEW
Date: 5/4/98
Archive: YES to Merry and Michelle
Archive author: Squidgie
Archive email address: walterh@squidge.org
Series/Sequel: None
Other website: http://www.meer.net/~walterh/walter/
Disclaimers: I don't own Jim or Blair - they're owned by UPN and Pet
Fly. However, I *do* make many trips up to Vancouver. I *did* have
my suitcase when I ran into a couple of the guys in Vancouver, but
didn't get close enough to judge size. I ain't making any money off
of this. Don't sue me, PLEASE! I have two mortgages, two cats, two
birds and a husband to support! Intended audience for this is slash
fans above the age of 18. Not over 18? Here, let me get a "Where's
Waldo" book for you. Don't read this.
Notes: When I started writing this story, I'd not yes seen any Sentinel
stories take place in a gay bar. Halfway through, I read pumpkin's
"Happy Birthday, Baby" and worried that people might think this was a
ripoff of her story. She read the early draft, and OK'd it, so here it
is. BTW, the sex scene is dedicated to pumpkin, since she said she'd
take her permission away if I didn't post a sex scene - hope you like
it, babe! And, as always, mucho-mucho hugs and kisses to Shelley for
being the best editor on the face of the earth. Honey, I promise to
share Garett with you when I bring him home from Vancouver with me!
if $MSG="Flame" echo $MSG > /dev/null; Otherwise, I would *really*
appreciate feedback, and other ideas/requests for stories. All
feedback will be responded to, I promise!
Summary: A story about Jim and Blair in a gay bar.
Warnings: Should not be read by the disco impaired. There are
butch gay men, disco music, dancing, and sex involved. And no,
this is not "Saturday Night Fever."
~*~*~*~
Jim opened his cell phone, stopping it from chirping. "Ellison,"
he responded, almost barking.
"Yo, Jimbo," responded the quiet voice on the other side. "I
think I got what you're lookin' for. Meet me tonight to discuss
the details."
A smile plastered across Jim's face, spreading his lips. His
snitch had come through. "Very good. Usual place?"
The voice on the other end of the phone released a little distress
in it's voice. "Sorry man, this is too big. Gotta be way outta
the way. How about Numbers out on Bentall - you know, West side?
Elevenish?"
/Oh great/ Jim thought. "Sure," he responded, the slightest
hint of panic in his voice. Numbers was one of Cascade's larger
gay bars, but in a little out of the way neighborhood close to the
city limits. "We'll see you then."
Blair immediately picked up the vibe. "What's up, man? What's
wrong?"
Always the one to suppress his feelings, Jim denied that he was
slightly uncomfortable with the situation just presented to him.
"Nothing's wrong. We have to meet tonight at a bar up on the
West side." Jim looked at Blair and said quietly, "Numbers."
Two eyebrows made it skyward, as a happy surprised expression
overtook Blair's face. "Numbers?" he asked incredulously. "Man,
that joint can be hoppin', especially on a Friday night."
Now it was Jim's eyebrow's turn to race upward. "You know this
place well, Chief?"
Blair's cheeks flushed lightly, and his heart rate increased only
as much as could be detected by his sentinel. "Well," he tried
to cover slightly, being as nonchalant as possible, "I've been
there with friends and students a few times. It's got a really
diverse crowd, and plays *excellent* music." What he'd said
was true. He *had* been there with a friend before, when he'd
confessed his feelings about Jim - feelings that he would never
tell Jim for fear that he'd be thrown out of the loft and Jim's
life.
Jim just stared.
"What?" Blair asked. "Can't a guy have friends?" He studied Jim's
face a few minutes. "What?"
"Nothin', Chief. You just always seem to surprise me." With that,
Jim smiled, easing the tension he'd obviously caused.
It was Blair's turn to grin next, and he ran with it. "Hey man,
don't knock it 'til you try it!"
Jim tried to ignore the comment, motioning for Blair to get up and
come with him. "Let's go, Chief. Wonderburger. My treat."
/There. That should change the subject./ Jim thought. /He
doesn't know how much I *want* to try it - and he's not going
to, either./
The previous conversation shelved for the moment, Blair went into
what Jim thought of as his health-food-rant. "Oh man, Jim! When are
you gonna learn? That stuff's gonna kill you, man! Besides, it's
only 11 o'clock. We just had breakfast three hours ago." Blair's
voice was tinged with the slightest of whines.
"Yeah? Well that tofu scramble crap that you made for breakfast
isn't exactly stick-to-the-ribs food. Let's go."
The partners made their way down the hall, raising odd looks as
they passed their coworkers, heading out for their lunch.
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sky blue eyes looked over at the body next to his in the truck, as
it rhythmically bounced to the pounding music emanating from the
nearby building. Jim smiled as Blair's body gently rocked the truck,
moving back and forth in a seductive manner, and nearly jumped as
Blair spoke. "So, you ready, big guy?"
Jim came back to reality, remembering the purpose for which he and
Blair were parked in front of the bar. He'd just hung up with Simon,
getting some information on the case, and dreaded going in. Not
because of the clientele inside, but because it would bring his own
true feelings closer to the surface - feelings for Blair that he tried
to think of only late at night, sleeping alone in his big bed.
"Yeah, Chief. Whenever you are." He glanced at his watch, noting
that they were ten minutes early. /Oh well. Enough time to
grab a beer. I just hope I can concentrate, if Blair doesn't stop
moving his hips like that./
Both men got out of the truck, Blair bounding by Jim's side as soon
as he'd cleared the front. He grabbed Jim's arm, as if to escort
him to the door. Jim tensed slightly, stopping mid-stride. "Get
off me, Sandburg!"
A pout forced itself from Blair's face, as he batted his eyelashes
at Jim. He quietly whispered, "Come on, man! You're gonna stick
out like a sore thumb in here." Blair reached back and whacked
Jim lightly on the butt, his hand stinging as it met the faded
blue jean material. "Loosen up!"
Jim turned to face Blair as soon as the hand reached his backside,
shooting him a look that would have felled any other man. But not
Blair. He was in his element, appearing to have the time of his
life. As Blair recaptured Jim's arm within his, he resigned himself
to putting up with it. /After all, there's no place around to
hide the body. And he's too damn cute to kill, anyway./ Jim thought.
They approached the door, and were greeted by a rather large man.
Blair was still bouncing to the music as they walked, as Jim took
out his wallet, trying to appear relaxed. "It's five bucks cover
tonight, boys," the bouncer announced. "But sugar," he said
sweetly, looking directly into Jim's eyes, "You promise me a dance,
and you get in free." The expression dropped, and one of loathing
took over as the bouncer motioned towards Blair. "Just lose the hippy."
Before Jim could put the bill into the man's hand, Blair slapped
a ten into the fattened paw. "He's with *ME*," Blair announced,
quite possessively. As he pulled a stunned Jim Ellison through
the door he announced, more for his own amusement than the bouncer's,
"He's *my* bitch."
Blair made their way through the crowd, pulling Jim behind him, and
saddled up to a free spot at the bar. "So much for a quiet, out of
the way place, huh Jim?" he almost had to yell. He just hoped that
Jim had deadened his hearing before entering the bar, and looked
carefully at his partner to check on him. Jim still appeared to be
too tense. "Come on, man. Loosen up! You wanna beer?"
A few seconds later, Blair could almost see Jim thaw from his frozen
state. He took the stool next to where Blair stood, and settled
in to his surroundings. "Sure," he replied.
"Good, 'cause I'm parched. Buy me one, too." Blair, who had
continued to bounce to the techno rhythm since they'd pulled up
to the bar, shot Jim a wicked smile. He knew that, in this
environment, he had the upper hand. His grin grew, as he watched
Jim fish for his wallet, mouthing the word, "smartass" towards
Blair.
"Barkeep!" Jim almost had to yell. "Two drafts, please." When
the bartender motioned to the six types the bar stocked, Jim
mouthed "Bud" and turned back to Blair. "So," Jim started,
as he paid for the newly arrived beer, "Where the hell is he?"
Jim took a long draw from his drink, and carefully eyed the
crowd.
A hand rested on Jim's shoulder, and he mostly ignored it. Blair
squeezed slightly, smiling at Jim. "He'll be here. He's never
bailed on you before, has he?"
"A couple of times, when things got hot," Jim explained. "We meet
on his turf and when he's ready, or we don't do business."
Blair raised the glass to his lips, and took a pull from the drink.
As he surveyed the room, he felt a hand come to rest on his hip,
and immediately stopped bouncing. He looked, and found the arm
attached to one Jim Ellison. A questioning look was fired at
Jim. "Yes?"
"Nothing," was Jim's reply. "I'm just taking your advice and loosening
up. You know, fitting in." Dark eyebrows darted up and down, as
a pair of colorful blue eyes sparked in Blair's face. With his
hand still on Blair's side, Jim dialed up his sense of touch, feeling
the warm skin underneath the smooth fabric. As his fingers told him
the story of what it was to be Blair Sandburg, he noticed the slightest
elevation in temperature and felt his guide's heartbeat rise
somewhat. Jim had touched his partner many times, though he was
always careful never to cross the line between appropriate and
inappropriate behavior. But with Blair's reaction, he began to
wonder what was going on. /Is it my imagination, or is he nervous?/
he questioned.
His sense of touch told him that Blair was calming down slightly,
as his guide's body began to again keep time with the music. He
slowly began to remove his hand from the gyrating man, when his
hand was captured. Blair's eyes caught his, a pleading look deep
within them. "It's all right, Jim. I don't mind," was the breathy
reply, and his hand was brought back to the moving hip. Jim hooked
his finger through the beltloop, and held on to his guide, smiling
quietly to himself.
Each man began to wonder how far the other one was willing to take
this, and how far their own courage would allow them to go.
"Jesus, it's boiling in here. I'm going to get rid of my coat.
Want me to take yours?" Blair began to shed his top layer, as he
asked Jim. Jim's coat came off, revealing a tight white tee-shirt,
bulging like it had been overstuffed. Blair's eyes viewed the taut
muscles, trying like hell to hide his arousal. With all the beauty
around him, and Jim being at the top of that list, it wasn't going
to be easy.
"Here." Jim handed Blair his coat, and turned back to the crowd,
wishing he'd worn something a little less revealing. Blair had
been turning him on since early that evening, and his nipples,
now hard and quite perky, showed prominently through his shirt.
They seemed to have their own radar, as man after man seemed to
hone in on them, like he was a piece of meat surrounded by a pack
of hungry wolves. He lowered his eyes to his beer, and nursed it,
hoping Blair would be back soon.
Jim made one fatal mistake. As he drained the last of his beer, he
focused on the bottom of the glass, seeing a well-built man coming
his way. Jim froze slightly, hoping the man would continue past and
avoid him. His hopes were dashed when the man saddled up next to
him. The deep voice came from a well sculpted chest, "Hi." The
voice matched the body - solid and sure.
As Blair made his way back from the coat check, he spotted a buffed
man walking towards Jim, and recognized the look that the man's
eyes held - lust. At first he was content to slow down and let Jim
deal with the situation himself - it would be hilarious to see Jim
try and get out of this one. But that thought only lasted a split
second, replaced by a fear that perhaps Jim would actually take the
man up on his offer - whatever that offer may be. He quickened his
pace, and was almost next to Jim when he heard the stranger greet
Jim. Just after the words left the strangers mouth, Blair appeared
by Jim's side, took his partner's hand into his, and motioned
to the multi-colored floor adjacent the bar. "Let's dance," he
said, startling Jim slightly. Jim placed his empty glass on the
bar to keep the stranger company, and allowed himself to be pulled
out toward the dance floor.
The feel of Jim's hand in his made Blair tingle with excitement -
and terror. He was hesitant to turn and face Jim -- afraid of what
might be staring back at him. Once they reached the far side of
the dance floor, Blair felt Jim's hand drop from his, and turned
to face his partner. He turned slowly, and let his gaze drift
up to Jim's face, where he was greeted with a grateful grin. The
smile was infectious, and Blair felt his lips stretch across his
face, a giggle bubbling up through his chest.
"Thanks," Jim acknowledged. "You saved my life back there."
Blair's face grew bright. "Does this mean I'm now *your* Blessed
Protector?"
Both men laughed at the inside joke, glad to have relieved some of
the tension for the moment. "Sure," Jim joked. "I protect you
from bodily injury, and you protect me from big, butch men in gay
bars. Deal?"
"Deal." /Big butch men?/ "So what are we going to do? I don't see
your guy here, do you?"
Jim scanned the room, searching for his informant. "No, and it almost
fifteen after. He's always on time. Maybe he got hung up."
Blair scanned the bar area, noting that the guy he'd "saved" Jim from
was now working on bagging a bodybuilder that he'd seen walking from
the coat check earlier. Deeming it safe, he asked, "You want to go
back and hang out at the bar?"
Jim's face threw a playful hurt expression to Blair. "Hey, you're the
one that dragged me out onto the dance floor," he pouted. Secretly
he was loving this, but his insides were quivering with nervousness.
"What am I, a wallflower?" The energy from all the men around them
seemed to be energizing Jim, letting him be more bold than he normally
would.
An instant of hesitation seemed like an eternity, until Blair grabbed
Jim's hand and pulled him a couple of feet back into the throng of
gyrating, sweaty men. He let go of Jim's hand and began bouncing,
letting his hips sway back and forth, noting that they were followed
closely by a pair of the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Blair urged
Jim to loosen up, motioning him with his ever expressive hands.
"Come on! Get into it!" and watched Jim go from a conservative beat
to an all out disco-type bump in a few stanzas of the techno-pop tune.
As the two danced, Blair gave Jim an approving glance. "Not bad
for an old guy!" he teased, over the music.
Not skipping a beat, Jim threw back, "Keep it up, Babe, and I'll send
you home with the bouncer!"
The sound of uncontrollable laughter was added to the ever-present music,
and the two continued to dance. As Jim became more and more at ease, he
threw his arms above his head, swinging them back and forth with the
rhythm of the music. A few of these motions, and Jim's tee-shirt became
untucked from his pants, revealing Jim's tight abdominals to Blair, who's
eyes grew at the sight. It was enough to distract him, when he was
put off balance by a nearby dancer's arm in the back, almost falling into
his partner.
Jim never skipped a beat, as he righted Blair, who was now dancing in
his personal space - not that he minded. The pair continued to gyrate,
Blair's leg between his massive legs, until Jim brought his hands to
Blair's sides. At first Blair thought Jim'd had enough, and was leading
them off the floor, but was shocked to feel Jim turn him around, and
a very hot pelvis grind into his bottom as he was bent over. Jim
continued to dance and gyrate, his hips grinding into his partner's
backside while powerful hands held Blair in place. The beat throbbed
heavy, and the two bodies continued in their new position until the song
drew to a close, and the two men stopped their dancing.
As Blair righted himself, still facing away from Jim, he instinctively
drew his hand behind Jim's head, turning slightly to catch Jim's face.
His expression was full of questions, as he closed in on Jim's ear.
"What was that all about, man?"
Jim beamed towards his smaller partner. "What can I say? You're a
bad influence on me, Chief." His eyes drove into Blair's soul with
his stare, and he unconsciously licked his lips, finding himself
suddenly dry. Blair's hand drew Jim's face closer, but instead of
speaking into Jim's ear, he stopped short. Their lips were inches
apart, both men hesitating somewhat. Jim, feeling quite bold with
his feelings tonight, cut the distance and took Blair's lips with
his own, claiming his mouth.
The taste of Blair overwhelmed Jim slightly, as their mouths opened
and tongues explored the new sumptuous cavern. Jim drew his hands around
Blair's head, as Blair's hand helped to put Jim's head in the right
position. Their bodies, already sweaty from dancing, began to cling
to each other tightly, as each man tried desperately to mold themselves
into one. Jim's hands began to roam, finding the narrow hips that he'd
held just earlier, and the firm asscheeks underneath the denim cloth.
Blair's hands began with Jim's head, and made their way all around
Jim's body. He latched onto the firm chest and back, and decided he
never, ever wanted to let go.
As the two continued the deep, penetrating kiss, they suddenly became
aware of cat-calls and wolf-whistles coming from the crowd around
them. They broke off just in time to hear someone yell, "Get a
room, you two!" and looked sheepishly into each others eyes. Jim
looked at his watch - 11:25PM - and looked at Blair. Both men spoke
at the same time. "Home."
Blair grabbed Jim's hand, leading him back across the dance floor and
to the coat check area. With each step, he could feel the spark between
them as it seemed to warm his hand, giving energy to them both, and
could feel Jim's eyes boring into his ass. A quick look back confirmed,
and a quickly blushing Sentinel was comforted with an easy kiss.
Both jackets now picked up, the men left the bar, avoiding the
conversation the bouncer suddenly wanted to start up with Jim again.
They got as far as the truck. Jim unlocked the door and turned
to motion Blair in before walking to the drivers side, when he was
pounced upon by his smaller partner. Passionate kisses ruled for
several moments, and Jim had to almost pick Blair up and put him
into the truck. As Blair's door shut, he made his way quickly to
the drivers side and climbed in.
Driving back to the loft was nearly impossible. At almost each red
light or stop sign, the men were almost uncontrollable. One look
between them would start a series of kisses, gropes, and hugs, that
took the driver of another car to bring them back to reality.
Realizing this would not be good for his insurance, and not wanting
to think about how he would explain an accident to his Captain, he
put distance between them, keeping Blair at arms length, literally.
Blair was now two feet away, held there with Jim's right hand, as he
tried to drive with his left.
Blair took Jim's hand, holding it in his, then brought it to his
mouth. He inserted the index finger into his mouth and sucked it
seductively, licking the digit carefully. Jim tried to dial down
his sense of touch, but found he was too aroused to focus enough
for the task. He withdrew his finger from Blair's mouth, and put
it on Blair's leg instead. "We'll be home soon, Chief," he said,
desperation very noticeable in his voice.
"Oh yeah," Blair cooed. He stroked Jim's hand gently, and drew it
into his crotch to rest against his engorged cock. As Blair's hand
found Jim's crotch, Jim pushed Blair back.
"Blair, honey," Jim breathlessly said. "You gotta stop. Come on,
Chief, I'm gonna crash here!"
Blair's desire instantly wiped itself from his face, and Jim soon
found his hand resting comfortably on the seat next to him,
suddenly missing the throbbing member that it held just seconds
earlier. "OK. Fine. I can wait, if you can." Blair spoke in
an even, sterile tone.
The truck slammed to a halt, Jim's eyes screaming in desperation
for the contact they had shared for the last ten minutes of the
ride, now removed as if it had never happened. He looked at
Blair, incredulously. "What in the...." His eyes studied his
partner, who was now cowering in a giggle on the truck seat.
"YOU LITTLE TEASE!" Jim bellowed.
The smaller man was now almost doubled over, realizing the power
he'd had over Jim, and laughing about it. "Jim, man, I'm sorry."
Jim's face was red, blushing deeply and easily forgetting the
anger that his partner's teasing had caused.
"Oh, you're gonna be sorry, when I get you home. You think you
can start something and just turn it off?" Jim play-lectured his
soon to be lover. "Just wait until I-"
Jim was cutoff before he could finish, Blair's tongue thrust down
his throat. The two leaned back onto the seat, Blair towering
over Jim and kissing him deeply. Jim's hands found their way to
Blair's chest, tweaking the nipples found underneath the fabric,
then pushed Blair away gently. "Let's just get home."
For a split second, Jim contemplated pulling out the blue-light
and siren to make their trip quicker, but they were only about
a mile from the loft as it was. He made it in record time, and
pulled into the parking stall, both men hardly waiting for the
truck to stop before jumping out and going inside. Jim found the
staircase and began to bound up them, assuming Blair was right
behind him. He reached the door to the loft, then realized that
he was alone. "Where the hell..." He almost yelled, then heard
the telltale sounds of the rising elevator. As he made his way
to it, coming to rest in front of it, the elevator doors parted,
revealing Blair.
An audible gasp was released, as Jim took in the sight of his
partner. Blair had removed his shirt and lowered his pants and
boxers while en route, and was staring at Jim, stroking his cock.
As if on autopilot, Jim walked into the elevator, taking in all
that was Blair. Two small hands removed themselves from Blair's
throbbing erection, bringing a palm to Jim's face. Jim breathed
in deeply through his nose, taking the smell in and committed
it to memory, for all time. He licked the palm before him,
sucking each finger gently. The hands left Jim's face, as they
began to tug at Jim's clothes, while tongues once again began
their explorations.
Jim was undressed in record time. As he pulled his jeans off,
Blair finished removing his pants, never taking his lips from
Jim's. The smaller man's hands found their way behind Jim's
neck, and pulled him down to lay on Blair's body, both bodies
now rested on the floor. With fingers intertwined, Jim brought
the hands above Blair's head, holding him down, thrusting his
cock against Blair's. The feeling was electric, stronger than
their earlier kiss. Jim's cock was stabbing at Blair's crotch,
gingerly wetting it with precum.
Blair managed to get his legs from under Jim's, and started
raising them in the air. "Come on, Jim. Fuck me." He begged.
"I want to feel you inside me."
Though he'd never experienced this with another guy, he was not
about to let that stop him. Jim's hand left Blair's, and made
it's way to his cock. He spread the pre-cum liberally over his
erection, then slipped a finger to Blair's ass. As the slick
finger gently squirmed it's way inside, Blair began to bare down,
wanting more. Jim added a second, then third finger, working
them inside the smaller man.
Blair licked a free hand, reached down, and pulled Jim's cock,
spreading it with moisture. "Now, Jim. Take me now!" He yelled,
pulling Jim's cock in line with his ass. Jim removed his fingers,
bringing his engorged shaft to the puckered entrance. He tried
to start out gently, but Blair thrust back, almost splitting
himself in two by the thick member. Jim pumped in and out of
Blair, lost in the sensation of tight heat on his cock. Blair
allowed his hands to roam over Jim's chest, tweaking the nipples
that topped the heated flesh. As Jim kept thrusting into Blair,
he leaned down and took Blair's mouth, kissing him deeply. Jim's
tongue roamed over Blair's lips, then to the side of his neck,
licking and biting gently, finally coming to rest on Blair's
nipples. He licked and bit them gently, matching his pounding
rhythm.
Jim rose slightly, leaving Blair's nipples, and towered over
Blair. He held Blair's ankles up, pushing them as much as he
could, allowing him deeper access to Blair's ass. As he continued
to pound, abusing Blair's prostate with each thrust, Blair drew
his hand to his crotch, and began masturbating. With his eyes
wide, he watched Jim's chest, dripping with sweat, as the older
man thrust into him. The attention his prostate was receiving
had already brought him close, and it only took a few strokes to
bring him over. He cried out loudly as his orgasm took over
his body, his seed shooting up around his chest. At each spasm,
his ass clenched down on Jim's cock. With Blair complete, and
Jim near the edge, Jim bent down and took Blair's mouth. Jim's
orgasm was powerful, the thrusts into Blair's body went deep,
and he cried into Blair's mouth as thrust after thrust sent his
seed deep into Blair's bowels.
The two men collapsed breathless, Jim's body almost crushed his
smaller partner's. It took several minutes to catch their breath,
Blair coming to first. "Oh, man..." He leaned up slightly and
gently kissed Jim. "You OK man?"
Jim threw an evil grin to Blair, returning the earlier kiss.
"What?" Blair was trying to figure out the puzzling look Jim was
giving him.
Another quick kiss claimed, Jim smiled. "Like I said, Chief.
You're a bad influence on me."
end

Though I've written a few X-Files slash stories, this is my very
first slash based on the television series, "The Sentinel." The
possibilities of that show... Whew! :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Jim or Blair; they're property of UPN and
Pet Fly. However, I make many trips to Vancouver, and if they come
back with me in my suitcase one time, well I *will* eventually send
them back.
THANKS: I have to thank my cybersis Steff for urging me to start
writing again, after not having written any fiction for over ten
years. Major thanks to Panda for becoming my friend through feedback
on a Mulder/Krycek story I wrote, then using her powers of suggestion
to get me to watch The Sentinel. She's now my editor, and I thank
her for her support. Shelley, this story is for you! (It's your
fault, anyway... You planted the seed in my head!)
This is "The Bears" by Squidgie. It's rated PG13 for implied M/M
relationship and a little cuddling.
Feedback is REALLY requested! This is my very first Sentinel story,
and I'd like to know what people think of it. You can reach me
at walterh@squidge.org.
I don't know who archives Sentinel slash, so feel free to archive it,
but please email me and let me know where it's been archived. Thanks.
***********************************************************************
Blair almost flew out the loft's front door, grabbing for his
keys and slamming the door noisily behind him. "UURGH!!!" The
groan of frustration eaked from his clenched mouth, while his
hands flew from their restless point at his sides, now aiming at
the sky trying to make sense of it all. "Why is he so pig-headed?!"
he asked himself, incredulously. As soon as he uttered the words,
he regretted it, having momentarily forgotten that Jim, Sentinel
hearing no doubt focused intently, could hear every word. As he
made for the stairs, the door behind him flew open. Blair took
the stairs two at a time, a voice bellowing down after him, as if
to ensnare him before he could flee.
"I'm *NOT* pig-headed. *YOU'RE* being *UNREASONABLE!*" The voice
trailed after him, and he knew he had to escape, at least for a
little while. When he heard the door slam from the floor above him,
he knew he was alone. Jim wouldn't come after him. Jim would
rather sit in the loft and brood for hours.
/Unreasonable, huh? Yeah right./ Blair thought as he
exited the building and walked along the busy street. It had
started as a little nothing; Blair had to finish grading his
student's papers and didn't want to go out - besides, it was their
one month anniversary! There was nothing more he wanted than a
nice, quiet dinner at home with his beloved. The thought made him
smile to himself. /Well, maybe more than *just* dinner./ Thoughts
of the, well, it wasn't a fight as much as it was a tiff.... Well,
a tiff or a disagr.... Blair sighed heavily. "Shut up, Blair!" he
scolded himself. The brief smile was now lost from his face,
replaced by a scowl that represented what he was feeling inside.
Yes, he'd wanted a nice, quiet dinner at home, but, "After all,"
Jim's words echoed through his head, "It's poker night. Poker night!"
Blair huffed as he remembered Jim asking why it was that they couldn't
just go out some other night? "Pig," he said to himself, continuing
down the busy street, his eyes darkening to match his mood.
***
Before he knew it, Blair realized that he had stewed for a good hour,
and was now about three miles from the loft. And cold. /Why the hell
did I walk out of there without my coat?/ he berated himself. /Well,
I should head back. Jim may be pig-headed, but he'd get over it and
damn, but it's cold!/ he thought, and turned around mid-step, when
something in the window of the store he was in front of caught his
eye. It was followed by a smile that could only be described as impish.
"Oh, man... Jim'll kill me." he grinned, and walked determinedly into
the store, pulling out his wallet as he strode in. Yes, he was a
total romantic, but why was Jim so...the totally unromantic type?
He reminded himself as the clerk rang him up, /He may be unromantic,
Blair, but he's yours./
Satisfied with his purchase, Blair waltzed out of the store, as if
he were on air, the mood that brought him this far from the loft now
totally forgotten. He decided to get back, make his apology with the
aid of his purchase, and pile himself into the truck for the poker
game. After all, there were going to be hundreds of anniversaries
with Jim to celebrate, if he had anything to do with it.
The sun had begun to set as Blair closed in on their building. He
looked up and saw that, though subdued, the lights were still on,
which meant that Jim was still home and had not gone out. He
carefully and quietly made his way up the stairs and was almost
to the door, when he heard soft music coming from inside. /Soft
music, and the incredible smell of....lasagna? What is going on
here?/ he asked himself, and turned the key in the door. As the
door opened, Blair instinctively moved his hand over to the basket to
drop his keys in, but missed it by a foot. There, leaning back on
the table that was now draped in cloth and filled with delicious
smelling items, was his lover, a meal in himself.
"Welcome home, Chief," Jim said quietly and smiled to himself. Blair
noticed that Jim was dressed now in a pair of khaki pants and a blue
silk shirt that made his eyes dance in pools of color that challenged
the movements of the candles spread about the loft. "Are you going
to come in?"
Blair suddenly remembered that yes, he *was* supposed to be breathing.
He took a breath in, but the look of awe never left his face. "Um,
uh... Jim? Um, what's going on here, man?" The words he had spoken
earlier about Jim not being a romantic now haunted his memory.
"What does it look like, Chief? A nice, quiet dinner for two." The
words oozed from Jim's mouth not unlike honey escaping it's container.
"But this was *poker night*, Jim. You wanted to go out and play poker
with the boys. What is this?"
An easy laugh escaped Jim's mouth, his massive chest moving rhythmically
underneath his shirt, the fabric brushing up against his nipples
sensually. "That's what you thought, Chief. I only *told* you it was
poker night to get you out of the house. This dinner," he let his
arms flow over the food and wine on the table, "was supposed to have
been eaten at the restaurant. It was supposed to be a surprise. When
you left, I called and had to pay a pretty penny to get it delivered.
After all," he added quietly, "it *is* our anniversary."
By this time Blair had practically melted into a puddle of goo, though
his face still held it's awe. He carefully engaged his legs, after
desperately trying to remember how they worked, and walked over to
his lover. "Jim, " he whispered, "Thank you. You're incredible, man."
Blair threw his arms around Jim, pulling him tightly into his chest for
a massive hug. As he did, he noticed Jim squirming in his arms. "What
is it?" Running his hands over the fabric, he asked, "What? The shirt
getting to you?" Blair's eyebrows flew up and down, innuendo hanging
heavy in the air.
A meaty hand left where it'd attached itself to Blair's buttocks and
reached for Blair's stomach, touching something through his shirt.
As the two separated, Jim asked, "No, this," he said, pointing to
Blair's stomach. "What is it?"
Blair blushed, his eyes bright with glee. "Um, just a little something
that I picked up while I was out." He began to unbutton his shirt
to take out it's contents, when Jim dropped his gaze, eyes spotting
the gift.
"Oh no, Chief! You promised!"
The room was filled with Blair's laugh, which Jim's frown tried to
extinguish. "Jim, I promised no more *teddy* bears. This isn't a
teddy bear Jim. It's a panda bear." His smile beamed bright, threatening
to drown out the candle light that illuminated the loft, and Blair's
mouth began to form a word.
Jim's eyes darted from Blair's lips to his eyes and back, focused and
intent on quelling the onslaught before it began. "Blair? Blair!
Don't you say it, Blair! Don't you dare!" all while Blair's lips tried
to speak, forming the forbidden word.
"Oh Jim... I wouldn't *dream* about it," he added, handing Jim the
stuffed animal. Under his breath, but loud enough for a Sentinel's
hearing, he added, "Pookie bear" and suppressed a laugh.
"That's IT!" Jim mockingly yelled. He threw the panda across the room
and grabbed Blair, tossing both their bodies down onto the couch and
thrust his lips to Blair's, kissing him deeply. It was one way he
could think of to shut Blair up.
***
After dinner was finished and put away and the wine polished off, the
two lovers slowly made their way up to their bedroom. Jim stopped
mid-step and turned, bounding past his lover and back into the living
room. "What is it?" Blair asked.
"Go ahead and climb in bed. I'll be up in just a second," Jim called
after him. As Blair got undressed and slipped between the sheets,
he could hear Jim downstairs, walking the length of the loft, as if
searching for something. Seconds later, Jim appeared at the top of the
stairs, holding the previously abandoned panda carefully in his hands,
bringing the grin back to Blair's face. Jim sat down on the side of the
bed, placing the panda carefully next to the teddy bear that Blair had
given to him a couple of weeks prior. "Not another word, Chief," Jim
instructed, as he removed his clothing, then slipped between the
sheets and took his lover into his arms.

~*~*~*~
Title: Moisture (From late 1990s/early 2000s)
Author/pseudonym: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Email address: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: J/B
Status: NEW
Date: 3/1/98
Archive: YES to Merry and Michelle
Archive author: Squidgie
Archive email address: walterh@squidge.org
Series/Sequel: None
Other website: http://www.meer.net/~walterh/walter/
Disclaimers: I don't own Jim or Blair - they're owned by UPN and Pet
Fly. However, I *do* make many trips up to Vancouver, and if the
boys just happen to make their way back home with me in my suitcase,
I promise to send them back relatively unharmed. :)
Notes: This is a funny little one-page thing that came to me as I
was driving up to our cabin this weekend. It's just silly, so hope
people like it. (Damn, I have to join Senad one of these days,
you know?!?!) Many major bear-hugs to my editor, Panda,
for putting up with me.
Summary: It's a silly Jim and Blair story
Warnings: Yeah, it's steamy, but steam can be so relative...
~*~*~*~
Jim and Blair moved in tandem, their bodies sweaty as evidence
of their exhaustive work. "Jesus, Blair! Don't pull like that.
The older man took Blair's hand in his, adjusting the grip. "There.
Nice and easy strokes. Keep on like you were doing, and you'll
get it everywhere.
Blair rocked back and forth, alternating between deep thrusts
and shallow pullbacks. "Move your hands, and let me do it!
You just lean back and let the master do his work."
Jim held back, watching his lover's hair fly to and fro, matching
the rhythm his body was producing. The air hung thick with
moisture, causing even more sweat to bead from the work.
Blair continued to pull; he knew he was close. Just a few more
strokes and they would be satisfied. "Come on, baby... Come
on!" he urged on, hoping for a quick release. However, after
several more minutes of thrusts, it seemed no closer. He
had to get release soon. The feeling from his groin would not
take much more.
"You almost got it, babe. Ooh, you missed. Damn, I'm going
to make you clean that you, know," Jim called, looking
over his shoulder.
With one last powerful thrust, Blair found release. The feeling
of satisfaction spreading over his being. "*FINALLY*" he
exclaimed, turning to Jim. "Babe? This is the last time I
help you out," he added exhausted. "Next time you clog the
toilet," he said, handing Jim the plunger, "*YOU* deal with it.
Now get out of here so I can pee!"

Title: Heat (from the late 1990s/early 2000s)
Author: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Author Email: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: NC17
Genre: The Sentinel - Slash
Pairing: Jim/Other (Rafe)
Shoesize: 10.5 *grin*
Warning: Don't own 'em, Just play with them in my head and let
them do what they want to. No celebrities were harmed in the
writing of this fic, though I did stub my toe. Wrote this in a little
over two hours in response to a challenge (I *love* a challenge!)
Feedback greatly appreciated. Please send to walterh@squidge.org
=========================================================
It was an unusually warm Summer evening in the town of Cascade,
with the heat from the afternoon-sun-warmed pavement still
radiating through the graffiti tagged downtown, making it's
inhabitants wish for the cooler nights of Fall that were still
a few months away. Jim Ellison, a detective on the Vice Squad
of the Cascade Police Department, was particularly uncomfortable.
He leaned against the side of an abandoned building, thick
legs packed into tight black leather pants, his chest rising
and falling slowly underneath a matching leather vest. He
kept a watch for the mark, mindlessly rubbing his right hand
over the taut muscles of his stomach, spreading the light
sheen of sweat over his torso. */God, I can't wait for my
fucking transfer/* he thought, eyes scanning the few people
around him. Ellison was assisting on a drug bust, posing as
a male prostitute while the real action was happening half
a block away. His fingers rolled over his erect nipples,
touching them lightly, as he focused on the undercover car
with the two agents inside. He had been ready to move as
soon as the signal was given, but the scheduled drop was now
ninety minutes overdue.
A gentle nod of one of the law men in the car told Ellison
to await contact on the nearby payphone. The shrill of the
phone cut the sultry Summer air, and Jim moved in to pick
it up. Reaching for the receiver, he noticed the handsome
man in the fancy car drive by again, slowing as he passed
Jim. */Nice/* Jim thought, absently picking up the phone as
he appreciated the smile of the stranger, bringing the warmed
receiver to his earpiece. "Yeah?" Jim tried to be discrete,
not giving up his cover that he'd worked so hard during his
time in Vice to put together.
"Looks like a no show tonight, Jim" came the reply from the
officer in the car. "Sundstrom and I are going to throw in
the towel. Maybe try again tomorrow night. You game?"
"Ooh, that sounds hot," Jim agreed, not letting the few people
within earshot know the real purpose of the conversation he
was having.
"Jeez, tone it town," the officer replied with a quick laugh.
"We're gonna head back to the lot, switch cars, then head
back to the precinct. See you back there, OK?"
Jim smiled, looking back at the car. "Sounds like a date. I
can't wait.... I'll be there soon." He nodded almost
unnoticeably toward the officers in the parked car, then
dropped the receiver back in it's cradle.
Jim yawned easily, his square jaw showing the angles of his
handsome face well. He began a lazy walk away from where the
officers had parked, taking in the surroundings and trying to
ignore the heat that was permeating the evening air.
A young couple, obviously having taken a wrong turn, held each
other's hands as they tried to escape the area as quick as
possible. In a playful mood, Jim winked and imitated a quick
kiss, directed at the young husband. */You left Kansas a long
time ago, you two/* he thought, as the couple made a ninety
degree turn to avoid further contact with the well built man
coming toward them. */Get out of here before you end up on a
crime scene report./* He smiled inwardly, knowing the couple
was only a few short blocks away and now going the right
direction of the downtown shopping district.
The hum of a familiar engine made it's way through the heavy
air to Jim's ear, and he turned as the handsome stranger in
the expensive car pulled toward him. This time, the car
didn't continue away from the area. Rather, it pulled up to
the curb, close to where Jim was walking. "Excuse me," a
slightly accented male voice arose from the inside, escaping
from the descending passenger's side window.
Immediately putting on his rent-boy face, Jim walked toward
the car and leaned down on the warmed windowsill, staring into
the eyes of the handsome stranger inside. "Hi there," Jim
greeted the fellow. "What'ya looking for tonight, gorgeous?"
The man inside the car was taken aback momentarily, but smiled
back at Jim. "Um, I just need directions to the Cascade Village
Flats. I'm new here, and I'm a bit lost." The stranger watched
Jim flex his pectoral muscles quickly, appreciating the view.
Jim loved it when he could use his well defined assets to
flabbergast those around him. It was especially appealing with
this guy. "You're only about a couple of miles off, cutie.
I could help you get there if you want," continuing his rent-boy
persona. He flexed again, appreciating the air conditioning
emanating from the car, though the car's occupant didn't seem to
realize that it was working the way he seemed to be sweating.
"No, no, no. Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need to get thrown
off the force before my first day."
"The force?" Jim questioned. He stayed in character, coming back
off of the windowsill as if it were on fire. "You a cop?"
*/What a way to introduce yourself to Cascade, Rafe*/ the new,
young detective scolded himself mentally. He nodded back to the
hunky man, now standing back away from the car gently, "Yes,
I am. Or at least I will be, tomorrow morning." He reached
up to the console, sweating fingers twisting the knob on his
air conditioning to the next higher setting.
A impish smile crawled over Jim's face, revealing both an
incredible dimple and a plan to mess with the rookie's head.
"Well now, for a guy who's technically unemployed, I've got just
the thing for you." Jim reached for the door handle, opening
it slowly. "And I won't even charge. Think of me as the
welcome wagon." He brought his large framed body into the car,
settling into the seat before the newest member of Cascade PD
could object. Turning to the handsome man, he was greeted with
a look of shock and intrigue plastered on the handsome, vaguely
Greek looking face. Jim put his hand on the man's thigh and
smiled. "Turn left at the next light."
Stammering, Rafe began to object. "Uumm... Umm, I'm sorry.
There's some kind of mistake. You're going to have to-"
Jim cut him off before Rafe could object further with a gentle
squeeze and stroke of Rafe's inner thigh. "No mistake, cutie.
Now pull back into traffic and turn left at the next light."
As if on autopilot, Rafe followed his hunky companion's directions,
hoping it would lead to an exit out of this quickly developing
Twilight Zone episode. The two rode silently for a few blocks,
before Jim picked up a letter laying on the seat between him and
his new companion. It was a job offer to the new Detective sitting
next to him on Cascade PD letterhead. */Yep, he's legit/* Jim
thought, making his plan all the much sweeter. "Turn right up
here, babe," Jim continued directing the younger man. In a series
of quick maneuvers of both the car and his hands, he had the younger
man at full attention.
Rafe had continued to sweat, quite profusely now, regardless of the
level of air conditioning. His attention was diverting between the
gentle admirations of his companion's hand on his thigh and the road.
As the back of the leather clad man's hand leaned back into Rafe's
crotch, revealing a straining erection beneath the expensive black
pants he wore, he missed what was being said, not quite believing
what he heard. He shot a confused look to the passenger's side.
"I said," Jim playfully continued, "put it in here".
The look on Rafe's eyes at the statement was incredible, until he
followed Jim's strong forearm, looking at the object his mysterious
companion was pointing to. It was the garage for the Cascade
Village Flats. Rafe relaxed slightly as he aimed his car inside
the cement structure and looked for a place to park. Going up to
the next floor, the muscled hand leaned back into his crotch again,
the momentum and force of the turn being the "excuse". He continued
up to the fifth floor, where there were fewer cars present. Rafe
pulled into a slot near the stairs and stopped his car, then looked
over at the man next to him. "Um, thanks" was all he could stutter.
"No problem, cutie," came Jim's reply. "Anytime you need anything,
you just come looking for me. I'll be closer than you think. Right
on top of you, just about." A quick smile came over Jim's face at the
double entendre that the young cop wouldn't get, then followed up his
comment with the addition of "Or in front of you, or behind you.
However you want it."
Rafe swallowed hard, reaching for the door handle. The leather clad
man was out of the car quickly, Rafe taking a quick moment to adjust
himself in his Armani pants, the silk caressing his ass and cock
lightly. He headed for the stairs, suddenly realizing the stranger
was following him. "Where are you going?" he asked quickly, wondering
what the man was up to now.
There was that dimple again, accompanied by a beautiful smile. "I've
got to get out of this garage somehow, handsome. That is," Jim added
sultry, "if you want me to."
Wondering how he got himself into such a mess, Rafe sighed quietly
and tried to compose himself enough to see the property manager to
get his keys. He started trying to distract himself in a failed
effort to bring himself under control. The two approached the garage
door, and Rafe reached for the handle as the larger man came up
behind him quickly. "What the fu-"
Strong, warm hands found their way around Rafe's midsection, and he
could feel the heat coming off of the body behind him, as Jim's hot
breath found it's way to Rafe's neck, while his crotch ground into
Rafe's rounded ass. A gentle tonguing of Rafe's ear cut the final
syllable down to a simple sigh, as Jim manipulated and controlled
Rafe's body. The strong hands made their way across Rafe's stomach,
chest, crotch and neck, leaving the soon to be cop on the edge of
an abyss of pleasure; one that he *so* wanted to plunge into with
his muscled charge. He allowed himself to be manipulated by the
expert hands for a few moments, before capturing them in his own,
turning his body to face his companion's. "I - I can't...."
Lust emanating from Jim's eyes, he replied simply, "But I can," and
thrust his face to Rafe's kissing him bruisingly hard. The rough
stubble of Jim's face rubbed harshly over his companions well
manicured cheeks, as tongues jabbed at each other. Rafe released
Jim's hands, now allowing both sets to explore each other's bodies.
The leather clad ass was firm, yet allowed for easy probing by
Rafe's fingers, pulling the couple closer together.
As Jim continued to kiss the younger man, he ground his ass into
his crotch, alternating with the hands that tugged at his backside.
Jim let his hands roam down, stopping on the belt of the well dressed
man for a second, while he pulled it loose. Moments later, the belt
took itself and the man's pants south, allowing Rafe's uncut cock
freedom into the stale air of the garage. Jim left his new lover's
mouth, trailing kisses down the front of the pressed shirt, until he
kneeled in front of the handsome man. With one hand on Rafe's butt,
he brought the other to Rafe's balls, squeezing gently as he took
the foreskin into his mouth, sucking gently.
Rafe thought he would explode immediately, with all the incredible
sensations the muscular stranger was bringing forth within him.
Strong fingers kneaded Rafe's ass, while the stranger wrapped his
other hand around Rafe's cock, using it to guide his head, taking
the wet, throbbing cock all the way down his throat. He could feel
his foreskin peeling back, revealing the sensitive head in the back
of the man's throat. Rafe let his hands run over the his lover's
head, alternating the rubbing of the freshly cropped hair and guiding
his cock in and out of the talented cocksucker's mouth.
Jim kept sucking, feeling the cock pulse in his mouth, turned on by
the incredible moaning that was being produced from the handsome
man. His own erection was straining beneath the leather pants he
still wore, but he ignored it, vowing to please the new cop above
all else. A gentle squeeze of the cop's balls caused his companion
to lean forward, thrusting deeply into Jim's mouth. The moans began
to get louder and more frequent, and Jim knew that his new lover was
close. He squeezed the guy's cock harder, willing the cum to flow
from it quickly, while bringing his other fingers just under the
guy's balls. As his head was guided back and forth over the
cock, the young cop continued to thrust. Jim began pressing on the
sensitive area just behind the balls, and that seemed to trigger the
final throws of his lover's overture.
Rafe cried out loudly, causing the pigeons roosting in the crevices
of the garage roof to frighten and take off. The two men didn't
notice, however, as Rafe continued to thrust into his lover's mouth,
his seed pulsing out of his cock and into the hot mouth. He continued
to guide his cock, while his companion prodded and coaxed, until every
drop of cum had left the his man's cock, filling the cocksucker's
mouth.
Heart racing, Rafe knew for sure that if he hadn't had an orgasm right
then, that he'd be facing a heart attack for sure. He guided the man
off of his cock, reluctant to uncouple from him and spoil the moment
that the two had shared. The larger man came up from his pleasuring
position and looked at Rafe in the eyes. He leaned forward, roughly
kissing Rafe, passing some of Rafe's own seed into his mouth. The
sensation was incredible, Rafe not having actually experiencing the
act before, but reveling in the experience.
Hesitantly at first, Jim pulled away from the handsome cop and looked
deep into his eyes. With a quick squeeze of the cop's ass, Jim flashed
him his best smile and said before turning away, "Welcome to Cascade."
fin

~*~*~*~
Title: Cactus Candy (from the late 1990s)
Author/pseudonym: Squidgie (Walter H. Hopgood)
Email address: walterh@squidge.org
Rating: NC-17 (well, almost)
Pairings: J/B
Status: NEW
Date: 5/3/98
Archive: YES to Merry and Michelle
Archive author: Squidgie
Archive email address: walterh@squidge.org
Series/Sequel: None
Other website: http://www.meer.net/~walterh/walter/
Disclaimers: I don't own Jim or Blair - they're owned by UPN and Pet
Fly. However, I *do* make many trips up to Vancouver. I *did* have
my suitcase when I ran into a couple of the guys in Vancouver, but
didn't get close enough to judge size. I ain't making any money off
of this, and besides, it's *Pumpkin's* fault, not mine!!!!! Not
beta'd (too damn silly to have been) but has been spell checked and
double-checked.
Notes: This is my response to the recent "Turn Blair into a giant
pink ostrich and have Taggart eat him" challenge that was put forth
by Pumpkin. This is *NOT* my fault!!!
Summary: It's just a Jim and Blair story (with lots of silliness)
Warnings: Unresolved sexual situation, drug use, childhood-tv-heroes,
and candymaking all put to shame. :)
~*~*~*~
The solitary figure walked slowly through the precinct, ignoring
the looks and gasps that seemed to follow him around each corner.
He ventured forth, entering the major crimes area, and noisily
dropped his backpack in front of the desk of one James Ellison.
"SANDBURG!!! ... Ewww...."
A pair of cerulean eyes rolled back in their owner's head, not
wanting to answer the question that awaited him. "*Nice to see
you, Jim*."
"Sandburg, sarcasm does *not* become you. And neither does that
shade of pink." Jim turned his sense of smell down, after determining
where it was emanating from. "I won't even ask you what that smell is."
A soft chuckle rounded the small office. "So, what the hell happened
to you? And what are you doing back early?"
Sighing heavily, Blair began delivering the practiced speech that
he'd worked on during the cab ride and walk from the airport. "Well,
if you'd look at your calendar, you would notice the date. Can you
tell me what day it is, Jim?"
"It's the ninth. And you're not due back until the tenth, tomorrow."
"No, it's the tenth. Jim, what day of the week is this?"
"Tuesday."
"No, Jim, it's Wednesday. Remember Wednesday? That day that you and
I set aside for you to COME PICK ME UP?!?!"
Jim flinched. "Ouch. I'm sorry, gup. Without you here to keep me
on track the last few days, I've been kind of out of it." Noticing
Taggart taking out a can of Lysol and spraying the area around his
desk, he added quietly, "What happened to you? You want to shower
and change?"
A cry of frustration escaped Blair's lips. "I don't want to talk about
it. I just want to go home, get in the shower-"
"Whoa there, Chief! You're not getting in *my* truck smelling like
that. You can get a shower here."
"Fine." Blair began rummaging through his bag. "You got any clothes
here that I can borrow? All of mine are dirty from the trip. Good
thing this bag is waterproof, though." He lifted out some clothes,
soiled only by his sweat from his journey, followed by a trinket
that he intended to give to Jim, and a green container. "Here,"
he said, handing over the artifact. "Brought you this back."
"What is it?"
"I'll explain later. It's a little puzzle."
"Oh. And what's in the container?" Jim picked it up, trying to smell
the contents through the plastic barrier.
"That," explained Blair, "is a kind of candy. It's made of some sort
of cactus. One of the villagers I worked with for a couple of days gave
it to me before I left. She said I'd like it."
Jim opened the container slightly. The green of the container lent itself
to the contents, already a light shade of green. "They don't smell
too good, Chief. You want me to toss them?"
"No, no, they're fine," explained Blair. "I had one on the train.
Well, a piece of one. They're OK - not that sweet. I like my candy
a little sweeter." Blair searched, pulling a pink pair of sweats from
his bag that didn't seem too rank.
Grinning eyes greeted the sight of the shirt. "What happened to your
clothes, Chief?"
"Laundry mix-up. You remember Bart?"
"What, the little idiot that went on the expedition with you and the
team? Little guy? Pointy hair?"
Blair tsked in disgust. "Yeah, that's the one. He got his 'lucky red hat'
dirty on one of the trips, so he tossed it in with the laundry on one of
the trips back to civilization to get supplies - *my* laundry. My
*WHITE* laundry."
It seemed this was Jim's day to catch up on his quota of laughs. He's
been a bear for the last week while Blair had been gone, but he was
making up for it now. "Sorry, Chief. Can't help you in that department.
My locker's clean."
"Fine." He put the pink sweats to his nose, deciding the strong aroma
wasn't as bad as what he smelled of right then. "These'll have to do.
Just get me to the showers." Blair dropped his backpack on the side of
Jim's desk, ignoring the puzzle and open container of candy. As they
passed Taggart's desk, he looked shocked as Joel aimed the can of Lysol
at him, threateningly. He stopped following Jim, and went to Taggart's
side. "What is it, guy?" He tried to get close to Taggart, who was
eyeing him menacingly. "What, didn't you miss me? Don't I get a welcome
back hug?"
"Get off me, Sandburg!"
The aborted hug now history, Blair gave Taggart his best pouty look.
"Aww... I'm hurt! Admit it, Joel. You just love me for my chili."
The expression, 'the way to a mans heart is through his stomach' was
not lost on Joel Taggart. A big man, one of his main passions was good
food, and Blair's chili was at the top of that list. "If it'll get
me a bowl of that ostrich-meat chili, I'll hug you." He rubbed
his stomach, fondly remembering the taste. "Damn! You just have to
mention that stuff, and it's all I can think about for the rest of
the day. You making another batch soon?"
"How about Saturday night? We'll make a night of it. Give me a
chance to make up some of the money I didn't win by missing the
last poker party."
Hunger filled Joel's eyes. "Saturday night? I'm there!"
"Cool! I'll tell Jim." Sandburg moved to claim his hug, but was
brushed off by the large fellow. "Hey! My hug!"
"Yeah, right. Hit the showers, hairboy."
A mock sigh of rejection flung itself from Blair's lungs. "Fine.
Foiled again." Blair began to make his way to the back with Jim,
when he turned back to Taggart and the crew. "Gents, there are some
treats in my backpack and in the container on Jim's desk. I know
better than to not bring you guys back treats when I head out, now."
He remembered the play cold-shoulder he received when coming back
from a weekend study in Colorado, empty-handed. "Have at it, boys!"
~*~*~*~*~*~*
The messy clothes now safely bagged up, Jim turned to see his lover
under the spray of water. He stood back, taking in the lovely view
as the water spread over the sinewy body. "Damn," he said, after he
was sure they were in the locker room alone. "I missed you, Chief."
Blair opened his eyes, and focused on the immense body standing just
outside of the shower area that was groping itself. At the sight,
he felt his own cock begin to rise under the warm jets of water.
"Don't do this to me, man. Not here. You don't know what being away
from you for six days does to me, man!" Trying desperately to ignore
his approaching lover, he recited baseball statistics, Mayan chief
burial dates, anything. When he finally reopened his eyes, his lover
stood dangerously close to the shower, pants down to his knees, stroking
his thick cock.
"I gotta have you, Chief. I can't wait to take you in my arms..."
"You were willing to wait until after I'd had a shower!"
His seductive concentration lost, Jim absently stroked his cock while
he tried to explain himself. "Well... What do you expect?" He pulled
his testicles slightly with his left hand, as his right continued to
stretch his cock. "You were covered in... What exactly were you
covered in?"
The memory of the trip - make that ordeal - from the airport came
back to him. "Well, I was so pissed that you'd forgotten, that I just
grabbed a taxi and decided to come down here and bitch at you. And,
I was so pissed that I forgot I only had ten bucks left, which
left me-"
"A couple of miles short." Jim sighed. "Jesus, Chief! You should have
called."
"Yeah, well, I didn't. So anyway, I told the cabbie, and he let me out
a mile from the station. I figured I needed the walk, after the train
ride anyway, so I hoofed it. I was making good time when my stomach
started hurting - probably from that candy Yuconda made for me." Blair
stopped the flow of water, noting that Jim had tucked himself back into
his pants. It was only then that he'd noticed one of the Vice cops at
a locker towards the end. "Anyway, I had to stop. I was *not* going
to make it back here without going to the bathroom." Blair dried himself
off, and put on the sweat pants and shirt Jim held for him. "So anyway,
I grabbed a port-a-potty at that construction site down the road, and
something freaked me. That's all."
"Something freaked you? In a port-a-potty?" Jim chuckled maniacally.
Blair sighed. "Jim, remember that X Files espisode that freaked me
out so much? The one with the human tapeworm?"
Jim recalled that episode in his mind, smiling at the memory. He loved
watching the show with Blair. Besides the settings often reminding him
eerily of Cascade - some reason he couldn't put his finger on it - he
relished the scary episodes. Those always found Blair cuddled up next
to him, shivering into Jim's side when the action with the monsters got
too much. He'd never have guessed that his lover was squeamish about
a television show. "Yeah?"
"Remember how I vowed never to go back in one of those things?" Jim nodded.
"Well, I broke that promise." He began brushing his hair, and readying
himself back to being presentable in public. "I tried not to think about
it, but when I was in there, I could have sworn I saw - something."
"What, Chief?" Jim was trying to be sincere, but the giggles emanated
from his eyes from how they sparkled, instead of coming from his lips.
"That flukey thing."
The locker room was filled with laughter, as Jim howled. Blair just sat
back, arms crossed, as his lover settled down. He narrowed his eyes at
Jim. Jim noticed, and tried to keep himself composed.
Blair rushed through his next statement. "Anyway, I freaked, I went for
the door, but it was locked, and I screamed, which echoed and caused me
to freak more, and I pounded on the door and when it wouldn't budge I
tried to lean in and ram it, and instead of opening up it tipped over
and the contents spilled through the toilet and then I walked in here."
He could wait. And wait he did.
After a good five minutes, Jim finally was able to keep from giggling,
as long as he didn't look at his partner. Blair was more embarrassed about
the whole thing, and was somewhat lighthearted about the situation, but
still slightly annoyed by his lover. After several false starts, with
each one sending Jim into a giggle-fit, he continued. "So, what plans
do we have tonight?"
Jim lost a fight, letting loose a giggle. "A fluke! I'm flukeman!!!"
He reached out a hand towards Blair, trying to recreate a menacing
monster from a late-night B-movie scene.
"Jim, this is serious!" Blair batted away the hand that toyed with
him. "I *really* thought I saw something. It was almost like I was
hallucinating or something."
The joviality of the situation drained from Jim's face, and he looked
at his lover more seriously. "Hallucinations, Chief? You need me to
take you to the doctor?"
"Naah." Blair tried to lighten the mood again. "Probably something I
ate, you know? Just - OH SHIT!"
"What is it, Chief?" Jim's eyes drew wide, as a look of terror overtook
his lover face.
Before Blair was able to respond, a yell came from the bullpen. "FIRE!!!
EVERYONE OUT!!! FIRE!!!!"
"Shit! That's Simon!" Jim grabbed Blair's arm and began running towards
the main office. "Come on!"
"But Jim!!!---"
Jim sailed out of the locker room, just in time to see his Captain make
a quick trip of the hallway, and bounded down the stairs. His sentinel
senses at full alert, he began sniffing, trying to determine where the
fire was. As Blair rejoined his side, he tried, but could only determine
the smell of one of Simon's cigars and a recently spent match.
"Jim, I think I---"
Blair was cut off by Rafe, who was running at full speed after a fellow
police officer in full motorcycle-cop regalia, screaming, "Ponch! Wait
for me, buddy! Ponch!!! Slow down!!!!!"
Pulling Blair up, Jim grabbed the pink material, almost barking at him.
"What the hell's going on, Sandburg?!?!?!"
"Jim, I think I know what caused that hallucination. Remember that-"
Blair was cut short, as his body was thrown to the ground. He opened his
eyes to see Jim stumbling backwards and tripping over a desk, as a
very deranged looking Taggart sat down on Blair. "I'll make short order
of you!" Taggart leaned down, his pearly teeth gleaming at Blair.
"Joel, No!" He struggled. "Get off me, man!!!"
Taggart cocked his head and looked at Blair curiously. "Well what do
you know? This giant pink ostrich can talk! How are you today, mister
ostrich?" A look of terror in Blair's eyes confirmed what he'd been
hoping wasn't the case, and he began to struggle. Pinning the squirming
body underneath him, Joel yelled. "Now stop that right now! You're
going to make yourself all stringy and tough! I don't like my ostrich
meat tough!"
As the mouth opened into a wide grin, the pearly teeth almost blinded
Blair. Being held by the larger man, he could do nothing but turn his
head and wait for the inevitable, for Taggart to take a hunk of him.
Hot breath burned his neck, and a drop of saliva dripped down onto his
skin.
Just before Taggart could make contact, Blair heard a loud thump, and
was instantly covered by the larger man. He sat still for an instant,
realizing that Taggart was not moving, and that he could not breath.
Arms flailing, he screamed and rocked back and forth, trying to get
the large body off of himself, when he felt his right arm being pulled.
he tried to lean left, and the unconscious body of one Joel Taggart
rolled off of him, as Jim pulled him up to the safety of his arms.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"So, Chief. You want to fill out the reports for this, or shall I?"
The lovers shared an easy laugh, easing off the tension of the last
couple of hours. "Oh man. I should have known."
"Chief, it wasn't your fault. She didn't tell you that she used peyote,
did she?"
"No, but still. Damn, how could I have been so naive?"
Jim put his arm around his lover, pulling him close. "Don't worry about
it. Just be careful next time, OK?"
"Damn straight." The doctor appeared, a grin still on his face from
the tales he'd heard. "Hey! How're they gonna be, doc?"
Doctor Mathews smiled. "They're gonna be just fine. I'm going to keep
them under observation for the next eight hours, but I'll release them
after. The peyote has been counteracted, but I still want to be sure
there aren't any side effects."
"Good." Jim added. "If any of them need rides home, just tell them to
call us, OK?"
"Will do. Oh, and Mister Sandburg? I would suggest that you dispose of
the rest of that 'candy' post haste. You wouldn't want any more of these
little episodes, would you? What was it again? Hallucinating a building
fire from a single lit match, imagining seeing one of your childhood tv
heroes, a giant pink ostrich...."
"Already done, doc. Thanks."
"You can go back and see them, if you wish."
The pair looked at each other, then replied in unison, "Naaahhh."
End

_______________________________________________________________________________
Tidbit #2
Rafe and Henry sat back at the table, smiling at what they saw. For one of the first
times ever, Blair Sandburg sat across from them, stunned and totally speechless.
"What?" he stammered. "What are you saying, Jim?"
The large detective sat next to his partner, and very matter of factly stated, "I
said that I think we should have kids." Jim knew he was throwing his lover for a
loop, and was totally enjoying himself.
Rafe was the first to break the silence. "So, um, not to get too personal, but how
would you guys do this? Would it be yours, Jim? Or Blair, yours?"
Henry Brown was now staring at Rafe, wondering how he got suckered into this
universe. Obviously the dinner had derailed somewhere about five minutes previous.
And this was one train he wasn't sure he wanted to be on.
Before the couple could answer, Rafe continued. "Oh, I know! Once you guys find
someone to carry the baby, maybe you would both go in on it together." An easy smile
crossed his handsome face. "You know, kind of like putting it in a blender on puree,
then load up the turkey baster-"
Blair finally spoke, his jaw firmly back in place from where it had been resting on
the floor. "No, no, no, no, no, no. It's either his or mine. No mingling of juices.
That would be too weird."
A puzzled look made it's way across Jim's face. "What? What's wrong with that idea?
Unless of course, you'd like to carry the baby yourself, Chief." A grin displayed
itself beautifully, and the blue of his eyes danced across to his partner.
"Are you kidding?" Blair asked, and incredulous tone to his voice. "You know, even
with the strives in science and medical breakthroughs aside, do you even know what a
woman goes through? All those hormonal changes. Everything they have to put up with
for nine months? No way, man. No way."
The smile on Jim's face was replaced quickly by a fake pout, causing the other
detectives to smile. As he tried to respond, digging Blair deeper and deeper, he was
cut off by a now flustered Blair.
"Ain't no way, no how, no sir." Blair began to pick at his food, pausing a second
for the others to do the same before he started in again. "Besides, you're
forgetting the main point, man."
As the other men munched, not taking the bait, Henry stopped mid way in picking up
his drink. Leaning in inquisitively, he asked, "And that would be?" He lifted the
glass to his lips, taking a nice draw from it.
Blair cleared his throat and declared quietly to the three men accompanying him at
the table, "Butt babies don't live."
And every occupant of the restaurant turned as three grown men began choking on
their food and drinks, as the man with the beautiful long, curly hair laughed as
he'd never laughed before.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Mulder made his way past the thick
door to his boss’ office, closing it solidly behind him. He
walked toward the larger man, his suit pants and white shirt
pulled tight against his body.

“Agent Mulder,” Assistant Director Skinner almost grinned. “I’m
glad to see you.” The built man rose from his chair and walked
over, meeting Mulder halfway. A meaty hand rose to Mulder’s
shoulder, as if to stop him. “Hang on a second.” Skinner
continued toward his office door, opening it up just enough to
poke his head out. “Miss Mathews?” He attempted to get his temp’s
attention. She was an older woman, slightly hard of hearing and
prone to bouts of daydreaming. Obviously, she was in this state
now. A deep throat-clearing cough rose from Skinner’s chest,
loud enough to wake the dead from Mulder’s last few cases, followed
by “Miss Mathews?” Skinner edged more of his body out of
the door.

“Oh, yes sir?” The light haired woman finally came back to reality,
a place where she obviously spent little time. She rose at her
desk, “What can I do for you, sir?”

The feeling of a tug on the front of Skinner’s pants caught him off
guard. “-Uh- Don’t get up! No, I don’t need anything further,
Miss Mathews.” Skinner felt a hand snake through the opening of
his pants, massaging his thick cock through his underwear. “Please
just go ahead and clock out,” he managed to add without sounding
too breathy. “It’s getting late,” he continued, as a wet sensation
began penetrating the material of his pants and underwear, “Just
clock out. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The office door shut quickly, and the room was filled with the
sound of the lock being turned, securing the lovers in the room
together. Skinner finally looked down and saw Mulder, on his
knees, with one hand inserted through the zipper, aiming the immense
cock down Skinner’s pant leg. He moaned as Mulder continued
massaging the larger mans balls and base of the cock. The hand
had snaked the cockhead out of the leg of the briefs and aimed it
towards the right pocket of the pants, where it was currently being
sucked and wet from the outside. “Mulder, dammit!” he quietly
exclaimed through clenched teeth, “Let’s at least get away from the
damn door.”

“Don’t you ‘But Wally’ me, mister!” Skinner replied, with more
joviality in his voice than mock anger. He put his hands in Mulder’s
armpits and pulled him up to meet eye to eye. A quick kiss brought
their lips and tongues together. “Get over to my desk,” he hissed,
as they pulled apart.

Mulder withdrew his hand from his lover’s pants, leaving a gaping
hole where the zipper was down. He smiled and eased his way over,
waiting for Skinner to join him. As he tried to turn, a hand
held him in place. Skinner brought his body up against Mulder’s and
began rubbing his hardened cock between Mulder’s asscheeks, only
separated by the material of their clothes.

Kisses found their way from Skinner’s mouth, delivered lightly down
Mulder’s back. His hands followed down each side of Mulder’s
body, tracing each contour, pausing slightly only to reach around
and tweak the succulent nubs of nipple that lay on Mulder’s perfect
chest. Continuing down, Skinner bypassed the leather belt, and
dove directly to the asscheeks his clothed cock had just been
assaulting. Once there, he bit and gnawed at the material, at the
deliciously round bottom that was in front of him. “God, I love
your ass, Mulder,” he mumbled between bites. He breathed out,
letting the body warmed air caress Mulder’s ass cheeks, going
through the fibers and tickling the sensitive skin around Mulder’s
anus.

With the hot breath caressing him, Mulder pushed back, trying to
give more and more of himself to his lover. His hands went behind
his back, pulling the balding head closer to his body. The
combination of moistness and heat was turning him on greatly,
and his cock throbbed in his pants for attention. He guided
Skinner’s hands from his sides to where his penis lay screaming
in his pants, begging for attention. The larger man massaged
Mulder’s cock expertly, while his teeth nipped on Mulder’s backside,
leaving small marks of red underneath the material, as if to stake
out his territory.

Mulder pulled forward gently and turned himself around slowly to
face his lover. He gazed down into Skinner’s eyes, seeing the
fire that burned below the cool exterior. He leaned forward, bending
at the waist, and claimed a kiss. After their tongues mingled, each
tasting the other deeply, Mulder leaned back up, and ground his
crotch into his lover’s face. Skinner brought his hands forward and
grabbed for the front of Mulder’s pants, but had his hands swatted
out of the way.

“No,” Mulder said seductivly. “With your teeth.”

Skinner was always surprised at how sensual his lover could be.
To know Fox Mulder was to realize his passion, and Walter loved
that that passion spilled over from Mulder’s job into their
sex life. He obeyed, and leaned up, taking the end of the
leather belt in his mouth. As he moved his head, manipulating
the belt free, the taste of the leather in his mouth exploded
on his tongue, causing him to moan. Within a few more moves,
he freed the belt from how it had been locked in place. As he
moved up to work on the zipper, he realized how much his lover
was turned on, and nuzzled Mulder’s cock back and forth within
the confines of Mulder’s pants. Mulder hissed in a sigh, as
the sensitive cockhead was moved back and forth along the silk
lining of his woolen trousers.

“Take it out, Walter. Suck me off.” Mulder could be quite
blunt when it came to matters of the bedroom, and Skinner was
all too happy to oblige. He rose on his knees slightly, and
nuzzled his lips and tongue into the zipper opening of Mulder’s
pants. Skinner was eager to free his lover, so with the taste
of metal coming from between his front teeth, he began to
free Mulder’s member.

Halfway down, Mulder pushed his crotch into the larger man’s
face, grinding against the hot skin he found there. Skinner
felt hot flesh against him, and hurriedly moved his mouth
down, almost completing the trip of the zipper. With one
quick tug he was almost through, when a piercing scream
echoed through the room. Startled, but still holding the end
of the zipper in his mouth, Skinner looked up, and as he
saw the uncontrollable look of excruciating pain paint itself
across Mulder’s face, he too was subjected to a horrendous
pain that seemed to emanate from his lips. The pain was
unbearable, and the sound of two men screaming threatened
to bring down the walls.

*~*~*~*~*~

Dana Scully sighed, and looked at the paperwork that seemed to
fill her desk. It looked like it was to be another quiet
weekend at home, finishing what she couldn’t face at the office.
Another sigh left her lips, as she stood up and began to
shovel the paperwork into her case. Her actions were interrupted
by the shrill sound of a telephone ringing. “Scully” she
tiredly barked into the phone, after picking it up.

Milliseconds after responding to the phone, she knew something
was not right. There seemed to be a man in the background
who was in pain, based on the amount of noise he was making,
and the person holding the phone seemed to be breathing
rather hard. “Hello?” she queried.

The breathing man took a second, but finally spoke.
“Agen Scuwwy, dis is Waatu Skinnu. Pwease con up to ny
offiss now!”

Scully pulled the phone back and looked at it, as if it could
explain what was going on, then put it back to her ear.
“Skinner? Sir, are you OK?”

Exasperated, the voice cried out in pain, then tried to focus.
“No. Pwease get up here. Ny offiss key is unduh ny sekwateries
in box. Pwease huwwy.”

“Oh my god sir, are you hurt? I’ll be right there!” Scully
dropped her bag, and made her way to the stairs, up several
flights, and down the deserted corridor to her boss’ office
at break-neck speed. She tried the door, beating on it when
she found it locked. /The key/ she thought to herself.
/Where’s the damn key?!?!/ She tore the secretaries desk
apart searching for it, going faster with each cry of pain
that emanated from the office. The key finally surfaced,
after being roused from a stack of papers near the inbox,
and she shot to the door, unlocked it, and flung it open in
one quick, smooth motion. Exasperated, she ran into the
office to aid her ailing boss.

Three steps in she stopped cold, her face expressionless.
She stood there, staring at her boss and partner, each
of whom had a different part of his anatomy embedded
in Mulder’s trouser zipper. As it sank in, she was the first
to break the silence, with a small giggle. As it built, she
continued laughing uncontrollably, holding her stomach which
now ached.

The younger man could control it no longer. “Dammit Scully!”
he yelled.

It was followed up quickly by a loud “SHU DA DOOW!” that rose
from Skinner’s chest, filling the room.

Hot breath leaving his lips angrily, Mulder answered for the
larger man, “He said ‘SHUT THE DOOR’!” At that exertion,
he winced in pain and let out a loud yelp.

Scully composed herself enough to turn around and shut the
door, closing them off from the rest of the world. She walked
towards her partner and her boss, and tried to put on her
“Doctor” face, assessing the situation as best she could.
It appeared that Mulder was stuck on the downstroke of the
zipper, and Skinner on the upstroke, each with a fair amount
of flesh mangled by the steel. “OK, you two,” she began,
as she finished her examination. I’m going to go downstairs
and get a pair of needle-nose pliars and some topical xylocaine.
First I’m going to numb you up here,” she poked Mulder
gently just above the crown on the top of his penis, “and
you, sir, here” pointing to Skinner’s upper lip.

“Whatever.” Mulder said exasperated. “Can you just do it
soon. And quietly?!” Mulder knew he was never going to hear
the end of this. But getting Scully to help was the only sane
and safe way of getting them out of this situation without
hurting themselves beyond that threshold of pain on which they
were already teetering.

“Wait a minute,” Scully said, moving Mulder’s penis gently
in her hand. “Oh my god, look at this….” The tone of her
voice captured the two men’s attention, and diverted it
from the situation just long enough for her. With one hand
she grabbed the material of the pants, and with the other, the
cold metal clasp of the zipper, and yanked it firmly and
quickly up, releasing it’s two prisoners.

And the halls were filled with the sounds of two grown men
howling in intense pain, and one woman, laughing as she had
never laughed before.

Assistant Director Skinner looked down at his lover. “Mulder…” he said,
in a tone that was just this side of a warning.

“Come on Walter. It’ll only take a minute,” Mulder grinned up to him.

Skinner knew better. Anything having to do with Mulder and being on the
floor never took a minute. “Mulder, your mother is expecting us in an
hour, and the highways are going to be packed.”

Mulder’s brow came together as the look of sadness and a bit of a pout
made it’s way onto his face. He raised his arm into the air, beconing
for his lover, “Please?”

Skinner knew he had lost at this point. A heavy sigh escaped his barrel
chest, and he tossed his overcoat onto the sofa. He took the offered hand
and sank to his knees next to his lover. “Now what?” he asked.

A smile replaced the pout that had been on Mulder’s face just a second
earlier. “Scoot closer, and put your head over here.”

Manipulating his frame on the floor, Skinner made his way into position,
carefully inching on his back. “Yeah? Now what?”

Mulder played with a switch in his hand. “This,” he said, as he turned
it to the on position.

Skinner’s face immediately changed from an inconvenienced scowl to one of
awe. His eyes lit up, watching the twinkling lights flashing above his
head. “It’s beautiful, Mulder,” he said, not taking his eyes away.

“I know,” was the reply, as Mulder inched his way next to him underneath
the tree. As the couple lay on their backs, staring up into the Christmas
tree with the colored lights twinkling off of the ornaments and tinsel,
Mulder brought his hand to his lover’s. As he clasped it in his own, he
whispered, “Merry Christmas, Walter.”

This story involves male/male sex, in explicit terminology. In other
words, if you don’t like this kind of thing or you’re under the legal
age for your area, well, you can just get the heck outta here!

Spoilers for fourth season finale, fifth season opener.

This story is my explanation (conveniently without explaining a damn
thing at all! *grin*) of Mulder’s death, and it’s impact on Skinner. All
characters are owned by FOX/1013/X-Files. I’ve just borrowed them and
written the good bits that Chris Carter hasn’t. *grin*

Mucho-mucho thanks and big squidgie hugs go out to my editor and
cybersis, Panda. I know that Mulder/Skinner ain’t your thang, babe,
but thank you for proofing this for me! More mucho thanks to Steff,
my cybersis, who got me into writing again. And finally, thanks to
Rebecca Toolan who plays Mrs. Mulder on The X-Files for telling me
her character’s real first name. 🙂

Assistant Director Skinner was beat. Emotionally and physically, he felt
as if he had been torn limb from limb. The meetings that he had attended
regarding his Agent’s – his friend’s – recent suicide had him awash in
emotions. He couldn’t comprehend how Mulder could have done this to
himself. Sure Mulder had been under a lot of stress over the last couple
of years, having lost his father and almost lost his mother, but to
resort to suicide? Only making it worse were the feelings that Skinner
had hidden deep inside himself for Mulder. Sure, he had lost agents in
the past, and sure it had hurt. But none had showed so much courage,
so much passion for his work, so much determination to find the truth.
And none whom Walter had fallen deeply in love with over the course of
their working relationship.

Skinner took off his glasses and tossed them on the pile of papers on
his desk. Unable to concentrate because of the dull ache in his head,
he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the stress and ache to go
away. He took in a deep breath, trying to forget the events of the
day and just relax. As he tried to shake off the stress, his phone cut the
silence with it’s high pitched shrill. Immediately, he began to tense
and adopted his normal persona and answered. “Skinner.”

The line seemed still for a moment. Just as he was about to repeat himself,
it became muffled, and a distant voice finally spoke up. “Under your
desk” it said, in an blatant attempt to disguise itself.

“Who is this?” the AD demanded, but was met with a click of the line
going dead. He sighed heavily and put the phone back in it’s cradle.
/Now what?/ he thought. Surely it had been some crackpot, but he resigned
himself to check it out anyway. Ever the cautious one, he reached over
and opened his desk drawer, pulling out a ruler. He then pushed the drawer
closed and leaned down in his chair to get a good look under his desk.

His massive chest was now resting on the tops of his legs, as he perched
in his chair, inspecting the dark underside of his desk, prodding at the
corners and underside with the ruler. He searched around so focused, trying
to spot whatever it was he was supposed to see, and didn’t hear the door to
his office open up.

“Um… Uh-Hum”

Skinner instinctively sat up, instantly regretting it. With a loud *thump*,
he banged his head, and began cursing himself as he rose back up. He
placed his hand on the back of his head, trying to shield himself from
further harm and present whatever shred of dignity he still had in him.
His eyes met his temporary Administrative Assistant’s, hers almost giggling
at him. “Yes, Stephanie?”

“I’m very sorry sir… I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just that I’ve never seen
anyone actually do that before.”

“Yeah, well at least you didn’t beat me up” he retorted shortly, but with
a little humour. “The girl you’re temping for and I had, shall we say,
a bit of a mixup one day.” Stephanie’s eyes grew big at this, wondering
how a man of such size could be hurt by anyone but the biggest of
men. Skinner saw this, and smiled warmly at her. “Never mind,” he almost
laughed out. “You needed to see me?”

“Yes sir, I was wondering if you needed me any further, or if I should
head on home.”

Skinner smiled weakly, still clutching his now throbbing head. “No, you
can go.” he replied. “But before you do, has there been anything strange
going on, or has anyone been in my office when I wasn’t here?”

Stephanie looked at him, thinking back upon the day. “Nothing strange, sir,
and only Agent Scully and someone from the office of the Attorney General
stopped by. I let them in, and watched them while they dropped off their
stuff for you.” She pointed, “They’re in that pile there”.

“Thanks.” he acknowledged. “Have a good evening.”

“Thank you, sir” was the reply, and she left his office.

Skinner looked through the piles of paper on his desk, still perplexted
about the phone call he received. /Oh well/ he thought. /Must have been
some sort of prank, I guess/ and he began to get back to work.

As he pored over reports and forms, he tried to forget about Mulder.
Burying himself in work was the only thing he knew to stop the hurt that
he was feeling. He reached down and began to absently scratch his thigh,
but upon drawing his hand back up, his skin brushed against something that
felt out of place. His fingers felt for the smooth surface, and he pulled a
post-it note from the underside of his desk. He donned his glasses, and
focused on the yellow paper. “Hotel Richleau Room 485” was all it said.
He drew his face into an inquisitive look, wrinkling the skin around his
eyes, wondering what this was all about. /Well/ he thought /I might as
well check it out. This paperwork can wait./

Skinner rose from his chair to put on his coat. With one sleeve in, he
decided he had better retrieve his gun and shoulder holster from his desk
drawer, just in case. After all, he didn’t know what he was going to get
into. He fastened the holster around his chest, and put his gun into
it, and once again donned his jacket. He grabbed his keys, flipped
off his desk light, and headed out.

*****

The Hotel Richleau was an older hotel on the outskirts of what was considered
central Washington. Skinner pulled up to it and allowed the young valet
to open his door for him. He towered over the young man as he pulled out
his wallet to tip him and asked, “Room 485?”

“Fourth floor, West wing. Take the elevators on the right side of the
main lobby, sir” the valet replied. He got into the car, as Skinner
got his bearings set and entered the lobby.

Though the hotel was an older one, it still had an “air” of sophistication
about it. Skinner took in the elegance that shone forth from the brass
fittings and polished furniture, and realized how well it had been taken
care of over the years. He finished crossing the lobby and approached the
West elevators, his fingers finding the up button. In an instant, he
was presented with the elevator car, and enjoying the Muzac version of
some Bee Gee’s song on the trip up to the fourth floor.

A pleasent “ding” invited Skinner to step out onto the proper floor, and
he began walking down the hall. As he counted off room numbers in his
head, he reached in and insured his gun was readily accessible and the
safety was off, just in case. After about a dozen identical doors on
each side of the hall, each delicately painted with their room numbers,
he found himself standing in front of 485. He moved to the side and
knocked on the door. As seconds went by with no answer, he started to
get agitated. He went to knock again, but had his jacket grabbed from behind,
pinning his arms back, and was pulled roughly into the room next door.

His duty in Viet Nam had served him well, as Skinner began escaping from
the hold that was pinning his arms back. He had no idea what he had just
gotten himself into, but was confident that he was about to get himself out of
it. He turned to face his attacker and began to lunge at him, when the
face that presented itself in the muted light caused him to stumble in
midstep, falling over.

Skinner’s eyes grew as they took in the incredulous sight. “Sir?” the
voice asked. He was up from the floor in an instant, and he wrapped
his arms around Agent Mulder, hugging him tightly to his body. “Um, Sir?”
the agent asked, “I can’t breathe…”

Skinner released Mulder from his arms and looked deep into his hazel eyes,
every care in the world suddenly gone. His eyes twinkled as Mulder stared
back into them, and he pulled the agent to him again, kissing him gently
on the cheek, almost undetected. His entire face beamed like it hadn’t
done in weeks at the site of the Agent. “Mulder, you’re alive! I – uh…”
Words failed the AD, and he once again released Mulder, and instead
grabbed and held Mulder’s hands in his, staring into his eyes.

As it began to sink in, he realized the line that he had crossed. Though
Mulder showed no signs of fighting the demonstration of affection, Skinner
immediately dropped the agent’s hands from his own, instantly missing the
soft skin he found in them. His face changed back to that of a concerned
boss, his eyes focusing for a closer study of Mulder. For the second time
that night, he had to regain what
composure he had, and make himself presentable. “Agent Mulder, what in the
hell is going on here?” he demanded.

“Hey, bring back the other Walter… I liked that one better” the agent
quipped. When Skinner’s face did not let up, Mulder allowed himself to
become more businesslike himself. “I’m sorry about causing all the grief
that I’ve heard’s been going around. But it had to be done. And it’s
all documented,” he reached back behind him and grabbed a thickly stuffed
manilla folder, “in here.”

“I don’t have the time. You want to condense this for me?” Skinner
glanced through the folder quickly, but looked to Mulder for an explanation.

“It’s all in there, sir. I’m sorry about not telling you before, but
I had to check some things out.”

“What, do you mean that you don’t trust me, Agent Mulder?” Skinner’s
blood pressure began to rise, and he felt his face flush with blood.
“You think you can just pull some stunt like this, creating and uproar
in the lives of the department, your partner, the Bureau?” He thrust
the folder back to Mulder.

“Scully knew about it sir,” Mulder replied, causing Skinner’s face to become
even more red. “She agreed to help me out. I needed to appear to be ‘dead’
so that I could get what I needed. Why do you think she was the one that
identified the body in my apartment as mine and not my mother? If you’ll
just read this, Sir, it’ll all make sense.” He pushed the folder into
Skinner’s hands again, urging him to take it. “Besides, who do you think
slipped you the note to come here tonight?”

Mulder looked at Skinner, hoping that he would find some sense of a
truce. Finally, Skinner seemed to relax slightly and crossed the room
to sit on the bed. He took the folder, thumbing through it more thoroughly
this time. “Yeah, what about that? Why contact me?”

“Because I – I heard you were upset.”

“Of course I was upset, Mulder. One of my best agents had just taken his
life. Why the hell WOULDN’T I be upset?”

“I dunno… She just thought that you were taking it really hard and
was concerned. She told me, which got me worried, so that’s why you’re
here. I’ve still got a small bit of information to gather, but that’ll be
wrapped up in a day or two. But, I must ask you to forget that you were
ever here tonight, OK? In a couple of days, I’ll get that folder to you
with all the evidence, then you can come in on your white horse and save
me. Deal?”

Skinner looked up at Mulder, taking him all in. It had been some time
since he’d seen Mulder. He missed the shape of his nose, that gentle
messiness of his hair, and those eyes. Especially those eyes, where
he often sat across from Mulder at his desk, trying to appear to pay
close attention, but was instead helplessly lost in the pools of green.
“Deal” he finally replied, “But your mother is going to hate me.”

“Why is that?”

“Because…” Walter began. He remembered showing up at Elizabeth Mulder’s
house and breaking the news to her. “Someone had to do it, since Scully
had ID’d you at your apartment, and I felt that someone who would feel
the loss as she did, should tell her.” He remembered how Elizabeth had
cried into his arms, and how he forced himself to be the strong one and
not shed a tear in front of her. “I’m just afraid that she’s going to
hate me for hurting her so much.” he added softly.

Mulder knew his mother must be hurting, but also saw the very real pain
in Skinner’s face. He went through his plan, not caring to try and shield
the blow from anyone, and in turn realized that he hurt some of the most
important people in his life. He walked to the bed and sat next to Skinner,
putting his arm around the broad shoulders. “Hey, are you all right?”

Skinner took a deep breath, causing Mulder’s arm to move slightly because
of the massiveness of his chest. “Yeah, Mulder, I’ll be fine. Just don’t
pull a stunt like that again, OK?” He turned to face Mulder, and found those
dark emerald beauties staring deeply into his own eyes. As he tried to look
away, escape the emotions that began to stir within him, Mulder took his
left hand and put it on Skinner’s chin, turning their faces towards each
other again. He looked deeply, searching for the cause for such an intense
stare from his agent. “Mulder, I-”

“Shhh…” Mulder replied, and brought his lips to Walter’s. The sound
was followed by a warm breath that poured from Mulder’s mouth onto Walter’s
lips, down his cheeks, and past his ears. Walter froze instinctively,
but Mulder took over, pressing his lips gently against the AD’s. As
each man began to kiss each other deeper, Mulder brought his arms around
Walter’s barrel-like chest and pulled him close. Skinner’s tongue darted
into Mulder’s mouth, and was soon performing a silky dance with the tongue
it found.

Both men began to lay back onto the bed, still locked in their passionate
embrace, when Walter began to laugh to himself. Mulder opened his eyes,
questioning him. “What?”

Skinner, now with the taste of Mulder on his lips, defended his laugh.
“Jesus, Mulder, what – do you SURVIVE on sunflower seeds?” he let
out. “You taste saltier than the Dead Sea!”

“What, you expect I can order room service in a place like this? You do
still have to sign my expense report, Sir.” Skinner tried to remark
back, but Mulder pasted his mouth on top of the AD’s and returned to
their passionate kissing. As Mulder moved on top of Skinner, he found his
hands going all over the incredible body that lay before him. Both
hands stopped at Walter’s nipples, and began to twist and tweak them
lightly inside their cotton shirt confinement. Skinner always became
aroused by the sensation of his nipples being so expertly manipulated,
and began to buck his crotch into Mulder’s, grinding against the aroused
member found in Mulder’s pants.

Mulder let up from Skinner’s mouth and sat up, straddling the massive
chest. He reluctantly let go of his new-found toys to unbutton his
shirt quickly, and untucked it from his pants. As he began to release
the belt, Skinner pushed him gently forward, bringing his crotch to
Skinner’s chin. He undid the belt buckle, then his pants, but left the
zipper up. Skinner’s arms slid from Mulder’s ass and reached around undoing
Mulder’s zipper, finally releasing Mulder’s massive cock from it’s cotton
boxer shell.

Mulder leaned down onto both arms in a situp type stance, as Walter
pushed the pants and boxers down towards Mulder’s feet. With the pants
now gone and Mulder out of his situp position, Skinner was presented with
a hot, throbbing cock, it’s massive head already glistening with precum.
Mulder took his original position straddling Skinner’s chest and
each man’s hands began exploring the body before him. Skinner moved
his hands to Mulder’s ass and pulled him forward. Mulder’s cock was now
inches from Skinner’s mouth, and Mulder rubbed it over every bit of
skin he found. When he aimed for Skinner’s mouth, his cock was met not
with moistness, but instead had been diverted to the gentle stubble on
the AD’s cheek. It was an incredible sensation, and Mulder began to
grind his cock onto the gently scratchy surface, spilling precum on
Walter’s face.

Though Mulder had been enjoying it, Skinner had just about enough of putting
it off. He turned his head slightly, licking his lips as he did so, and
Mulder’s bulbuous cockhead began gliding gently over his lips. Mulder
let out a groan, and Walter knew it was time. He parted his lips and
took Mulder’s cock deep into his mouth. As he lay back, he let Mulder
set the rhythm, the cock now plunging deeper and deeper, threatening to
choke off his air supply. He wrapped one hand around the base of Mulder’s
cock, the other set on fondling his balls gently. He gradually became
adjusted to the size of Mulder’s cock and began swirling his hand and
tongue in a similar, circular motion, hoping to eek out a bit more pleasure
for him and Mulder. His grip tightened slightly, and his tongue became
more daring, learning the shape and texture of the cock that was plunging
into his mouth. Skinner closed his eyes and just lay back to relax and
enjoy the sensations.

Without warning, Mulder pulled his cock from Skinner’s mouth, sounding a
little “pop” as he did so. This brought Skinner back to reality with
a slight start. “What?” he questioned.

“Hey, you were bringing me too close, but I’m far from done.” Mulder lay
back on top of Skinner and began playing with the buttons on Skiner’s
shirt. He smiled at Skinner and began to snake his way down the body
he lay on, trailing kisses along the way. When he reached Skinner’s
belt, his fingers made quick work on it, dropping it to the floor next
to them. He unbuttoned and unzipped Skinner’s pants, revealing a hard
smooth stomach and stark white underwear. He looked up at Skinner, one
eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Skinner was puzzled. “What?” he almost demanded.

“Briefs, Walter? I pegged you as more of a boxers type.”

“Yeah, well, they were clean and convenient.”

Mulder gave in. “Oh” was all he replied, and he began running his hands
over the dress slacks and into the underwear, feeling the hardness of
Skinner beneath them. He pulled both hands out, put them on each side of
Skinner’s pants, and began pulling the underwear and pants down in one
motion while Skinner freed himself from his button-down shirt. When the
material reached Skinner’s shins, Mulder saw a problem. “Wait a minute.”
he said, and turned away from Skinner, removing the dress shoes quickly.
The obstacles now out of the way, he continued removing the clothing until
Skinner lay before him, naked. As he looked over the body before him, he
spread the massive legs apart and crawled up between them.

It was now Skinner’s turn to feel the ecstacy of a warm mouth on his
throbbing member. Mulder wrapped his left hand around the cock, slowly
jacking it. His thumb ran over the massive head, spreading the sticky
pre-ejaculate in a sensual motion. He positioned his mouth directly
over the head of Skinner’s cock and blew on it gently. Walter was now
staring down, awaiting the beautiful sensations of Mulder’s mouth. Just
as Mulder lowered his head, he turned to Skinner and said, “Sir?”

“What?!” Skinner barked, the moment now almost surely lost.

“Does this mean you will sign my expense reports?”

“MULDER!” Skinner almost yelled, and thrust his crotch upward. Mulder
tried to laugh, but instead found his mouth filled with Skinner’s cock,
moving in and out in a frenzied motion. As Mulder let his tongue and
lips go over every inch of the throbbing member, he took his free hand
and began playing with the area between Skinner’s balls and ass, massaging
it gently. Walter thought he was in heaven, the sensations running through
his body bringing him pleasure like he had never experienced before. He
writhed under Mulder’s care, giving himself over to the pleasure that Mulder
was bringing to him.

Mulder’s fingers continued to rub close to Skinner’s ass, getting closer
with each second. His middle finger finally make it’s way down, finding
Skinner’s hole, and he began massaging around it deeply. With his finger
just on the outside, Skinner pushed himself down slightly, causing the
finger to enter him. The sensation was intense, and he pushed himself
down further, as Mulder anchored his finger deeper until he was buried past
his knuckle. With each thrust down on Skinner’s cock, Mulder made a
counter thrust with his fingers, digging deeper and deeper into Skinner’s
hole, until his fingertip brushed against Skinner’s prostate, causing
Skinner to raise his head off the bed and focus on Mulder, drawing air
in through his teeth sharply. He looked into Mulder’s eyes as Mulder
pushed deeper and deeper, now letting another finger in to explore the
tight cavity.

It was almost too much for Walter to experience, and his hands gripped
at the bedcovers tightly. His whole being felt as if it were being devoured
by Mulder and his expert hands and mouth. He watched Mulder move his
torso slightly, never releasing Skinner’s cock or ass, as Mulder drew himself
up into a position where he was sitting on his knees, his cock still rigid
and leaking massive amounts of precum.

The hand in his ass was finally withdrawn, and Mulder took his fist and
began smoothing his pre-ejaculate over his cock. When this was not enough,
he took his mouth off of Skinner and spat down onto his cock, lubricating
it generously. One more bit of spittle was onto Mulder’s fingertips, and
they found their way to Skinner’s ass, preparing it. Mulder grabbed Skinner’s
ankles and drew them up in the air, placing them on his shoulders, and
moved his cock into position. Walter reached behind him and grabbed a
pillow, placing it under his back to raise himself just a bit. He braced
himself as Mulder’s cock now found itself at the opening to his ass.
He bared down slightly as Mulder thrust forward, popping his cock head
into his ass, sliding the shaft in after pausing for a moment to allow
Walter to get used to the length and girth of it.

Mulder was in heaven. Never had he been in such a tight, hot, moist
place, and never with such a beautiful man as the one who lay before him.
He began thrusting in, gently at first, but built up to a frenzied pace.
His hands held Walter’s legs in place, but occasionally ventured to play
with Walter’s nipples or caress his body. Walter’s own hands were used
to rub his cock, meeting Mulder stroke for stroke, and to pinch each of
his own nipples gently. Mulder was getting more and more turned on watching
Skinner play with his nipples, and moved the ankles from his shoulders
into position under his arms, locked behind him. This allowed Mulder
to lean forward and take a nipple into his mouth without pulling out
of Skinner’s hot ass. He continued thrusting and licking, bringing himself
closer to the edge. As he raised his body back up, releasing the nipple
from his teeth, he thrust deeper into Skinner’s body. Skinner could
feel the cockhead expanding in his ass, filling him further, massaging
his prostate at a frantic pace.

Mulder felt the familiar sensation begin to build up in him and threw
his head back. He kept his rhythm up, still being matched by Walter’s
fisted cock. As the sweat dripped from his chest, he cried out and
began to spill his seed deep into Skinner’s ass. With each thrust, his
legs quaked at the intensity of his orgasm. Skinner used his legs to pull
Mulder in even closer to his body, to intensify the experience for him
on a magnitude he’d never felt before. After what seemed the longest
and hottest orgasm he’d ever experienced, he began to pump the last of his
massive load deep into Skinner’s ass, but did not pull out. He instead
continued pumping, and took Skinner’s cock in his fist, jacking it with
a firm grip.

Skinner’s newly freed hand found it’s way up to his unoccupied nipple and
began to manipulate it as he had been doing the other. As Mulder continued
plunging in, Skinner stepped to the brink and began to lose his load of cum,
shooting well past his pecs. As he shot, he continued to pinch his nipples
and groaned loudly, enjoying the sensation of his orgasm with Mulder still
in his ass. Each spurt made a white puddle on his chest and stomach, coaxed
out by Mulder’s expert handling. As his orgasm subsided, Mulder released the
tight grip on his cock, letting it fall flacidly into his pubic hair. Mulder
pulled his own cock from Skinner’s ass and crawled up on top of him, Skinner’s
juices becoming a sticky mess between their skin. He kissed Skinner lightly
on the nose, then the mouth, and collapsed next to him on the bed.

The two began to catch their breath, resting comfortably on the bed next
to each other. Each began to get up, awkwardly fumbing around searching
for their clothes, and some way to clean themselves. Skinner began to
wipe his chest on the covers of the bed, when Mulder protested, “Hey!
I have to *sleep* there tonight!”

“Well, Mulder. Looks like you get the wet spot.”

“You pig.”

Skinner shot a grin at Mulder and grabbed for him, pulling him close
to his body. “I’m so glad that you’re all right, Mulder.”

“Yeah well, I could tell” was Mulder’s comeback, the dose of smartass
quite evident in his voice. He returned the bear like hug, wanting it
to never end.

Skinner eventually pulled himself from the embrace, smiling at Mulder.
“Listen, I’d uh, better go. You gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just give me a couple of days more, ok?”

“Sure.” Skinner replied, but thought to himself, /Am I going to be able to
wait that long?/ As he finished buttoning himself up, insuring that he was
once again presentable, he put his hand on Mulder’s chest lovingly. “You
take care of yourself, OK?” He turned and headed for the door.

“Will do, Sir.”

Skinner’s body stiffened, and he walked back to Mulder. He planted one last
kiss on Mulder’s lips adding, “…and stop calling me sir!”

“Yes Sir!” Mulder’s smile beamed at him. Skinner popped Mulder lightly
on the ass with the palm of his hand, then turned and left the room.

Assistant Director Skinner grew restless…. He paced his office, waiting
for his agents to show up and give him report. They, Mulder and Scully,
had been gone for two weeks in some small backwater town, investigating
something…what was it? Alien abduction? Tree creatures? He couldn’t
remember for the life of him. His mind was too preoccupied. Being without
Mulder for the last two weeks had been hell. He was just getting used
to being with Mulder after having been alone for so long. To top it off,
their three month anniversary, which was to have been a nice dinner out
on the town, discreet of course, ended up being a frozen TV dinner alone.
Walter dropped his massive frame into his chair, wondering what could be
taking his lover so long.

As if on cue, a shrill beep broke the silence. His hands withdrew from
their worriesome place at his temple. “Yes?”

“Agents Mulder and Scully reported in a few minutes ago, Sir. Security
just called and let me know,” the voice of his secretary reported from
his speakerphone.

Walter sighed, feeling much lighter than he had just moments before.
He stode to the door and thanked her on his way past her desk.

A visit to the basement by the AD always seemed to turn heads, and this
one was no different. As Walter made his way down the elevator and
through the out of the way offices and supply rooms, he always gained
attention. Not so, however, when he showed up at the open door to
the small office in the back. His eyes glanced around the room, finally
setting on the pair in a back corner. “A-hem” He announced his
presence to the couple.

Mulder and Scully turned, finding themselves being paid a visit by their
boss. Mulder’s face lit up seeing Walter standing at the door, the effect of
his lover’s presence showing. “Welcome back, you two.”

“Thank you sir,” Mulder replied. “It’s good to be back”. His stare
lingered on Walter for a moment. “We’ve got some final paperwork to
finish, but we’ll be up soon. The things we’ve seen….”

Scully rolled her eyes back, trying to ignore the dull ache and Mulder’s
comments. “Allegedly saw, Mulder” she added, leaving Mulder’s side to
search for some aspirin in her desk. Finding none, she headed for the
door, needing to find the elusive medical kit that was alleged to be
somewhere here in the basement.

Walter, detecting that there was just about to be another “round” of
something, dropped his gaze from Mulder and surveyed the room. “I’ll
see you two upstairs” he announced. “Oh, and by the way” he added,
stopping Scully in her tracks, both agents attention focused on their
boss’ face, “In case you’d forgotten, it’s almost the end of January.
Take down these Christmas decorations, *please*.” Mulder and Scully
looked around, seeing the lights and tinsel that had been thrown
half-heartedly around the room.

As he turned to exit, Skinner was stopped by Mulder’s voice. “Sir?”

“Yes, Agent Mulder?”

His answer was provided not by word, but by a look. Skinner followed
his lover’s eyes up, seeing a small red ribbon with a pathetic, shriveled
piece of mistletoe hanging from the doorway. His face blushed bright,
challenging the color of the ribbon, and his eyes dove to Mulder’s, who
was beaming back at him and glancing to the petite agent now also standing
in the doorway. Skinner dropped his eyes, locking onto those
of the auburn haired agent. “You know what that means. Sir.” Mulder
added, egging his lover on.

Never taking his eyes from Scully, he replied, “Of course I do Agent
Mulder.” Scully bit her lower lip, and leaned up in anticipation.
Not to be outdone, Walter brought his massive hands to her arms and
squeezed affectionatly, then turned and walked across the room, stopping
in front of his lover. He took Mulder into his arms, pulled him close,
and brought their lips together passionatly. As Mulder struggled slightly,
Skinner embraced him even tighter, thrusting his tongue deep into his
lover’s mouth, exploring every part of it.

Skinner broke the kiss as abuptly as it began, and strode back to the
office door. He turned back to see the shocked faces of his agents.
“My office, ten minutes,” he called, and took off towards the elevators.